Spark, Ignition
by Ranma Matsuri
Summary: A meeting of minds, a touch of hands, a sideways glance... all it takes is a single spark.
1. Civil War

**Title: Civil War**

**Author: Ranma Matsuri**

**Pairings: Kim/Roy, one-sided Hughes/Roy, and implied Hughes/Gracia**

**Rating: T**

**Theme: Civil War (#4)**

**Notes: AU. Part of "Spark, Ignition ", my pathetic attempt at the Kim/Roy 20 theme challenge. Set in modern day high school, a battlefield all it's own. **

**I honestly don't know if these themes had specific rules and if I'm bending them because they're like **_**years **_**old and are in japanese but it should be ok. I say that because even though it's Kim/Roy, this is told from Hughes' perception (believe me, it's better that way). Plus, this kinda walks on a thin line of not really relating to the theme at all so yeah... a****nyways... I am in LOVE with Manga!Kimbley *squeals*. He's like my perfect sociopathe: sophisocated, handsome, intelligent, and a brutal killer all in one 333. I swear seeing him in the infamous white suit is just **_**gawd...**_** So, I just **_**had **_**to use him even though it kinda clashes with what I was trying to do but I just couldn't resist!**

***gets crazed look from Anime!Kimbley* **

***fidgets nervously* Of course, I still love the rough and tough mad bomber I was originally introduced to but- um, um, um... *grabs Manga!Kimbley and takes off***

**Disclaimer: As you probably can already figure out, I own nothing related to FMA. The original Japanese Kim/Roy themes were translated by Laylah (which I highly recommend to check out her work on ) and maho_kiwi. Their translations is what I shall be going by for this challenge. ^_^**

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From the start, Maes Hughes did not like Roy's new friend.

He had just returned to school after being at home sick for the week. When he went to lunch expecting to sit across from Roy (and _just _Roy) in their usual spot, he'd found a rather overly dressed stranger in a white suit and fedora hat sitting right beside him.

_" Wha? I'm gone for a week and you already found someone to replace me?"_

_" Naturally. Think I was just going to sit around waiting for your germ-infested ass all week? Zolf, this is the friend I was talking about, Maes Hughes. If he reaches into his pocket for anything, just say NO and walk away quickly."_

_" Hey! There __**are**__ some who can appreciate the art of photography."_

_" I'm sure. Maes, this is Kimbley. He just started going here, he's into alchemy and ancient sciences too- see? Told ya I wasn't the only one interested in that stuff!"_

_" Pleasure to meet you, Hughes."_

_" Same here."_

They shook hands (the sparkling glimpse of red around the stranger's neck catching citron eyes briefly) and it all went downhill from there.

As it turned out, Zolf J. Kimbley was actually a pretty cool guy. Brought up in a southern family of big oil merchants and having previously only attended private schools, he was a product of wealth and privilege. Amazingly though, his background had not managed to cloud his vision of the world as it normally would to kids in his situation. He was worldly, mild-mannered, opinionated, and perhaps a little screwy but a gentleman through and through... and it was those qualities that immediately earned him the respect of his classmates. That wasn't all though, Kimbley had quite an impressive resume that sent him instantly to the top of the high school clique spectrum:

Honor student.

Captain of the debate team.

Drama club star.

Lead singer in a popular local band.

... and if the giggling girls in the hallways and classrooms were anything to go by, he wasn't bad looking either.

All that, and he never showed any signs of abusing the larger than life perception his peers had of him... accepting their admiration then remaining completely apathetic it. Just like a true gentleman would. Yeah, it was really hard to not like Zolf J. Kimbley... for anything other than being the reason life was so fucking unfair.

But Maes had never been that sort of person. After all, he was best friends with one of the smartest, most popular, and quote: "most fuckable" guys in recent Central High history. Though the constant stares, the nervous fumbling of a shy girl asking him to pass along a love letter, and the small tinges of inferiority when test results came in stung like a bitch, he dealt with it all because he lov- liked all that about Roy and valued his friendship.

So why couldn't it be the same way with _Roy's_ friend?

He could tell that Kimbley was trying too... but by the end of that first month, the tension spreading between them had reached a critical point and neither one of them could stand being near the other.

They had managed to remain... civil, at best. Polite conversation, half-hearted greetings, and even the occasional passing wave of hello in the hallway. Otherwise, neither of them acknowledged each other unless Roy was involved. Some days, he had the feeling that the raven haired Xing boy was the only thing keeping them from ripping each other apart.

He wanted to like Zolf, wanted to be friends with him- he really did- but it just wasn't going to happen... not when he continually felt a pang in his gut that was a lot more than mere disappointment whenever Roy couldn't hang with him after school because he'd already promised Zolf he would go to some debate or attend a band practice.

Not when he was practically seething every time he sought out Roy during study hall only to find him in the library already hovering over a textbook with Kimbley.

Not when he had cut the conversation short and hung up shortly after calling Roy one night just because he heard Kimbley's voice in the background.

Not when Kimbley sat just a little too close to Roy during lunch one day and was stealing glances at Maes as his hands seemed to have dozens of excuses to openly travel the other boy's body.

And most definitely NEVER, when he had to restrain himself from lunging across that lunch table once he realized that Kimbley was doing it on purpose.

He confronted him in the library about it later that same day. It was the only conversation they had with each other that didn't directly involve Mustang... and even then, he was the center of it.

_" Care to explain about lunch?"_

_" You mean that green concoction they tried to pass off as potato salad? I don't think there's any explanation scientific or otherwise that could-"_

_" I'm not in the mood for games, Kimbley."_

_" Games? Are we in the middle of one?"_

_" Stop fucking around-"_

_" Roy's been looking good... __**really good**__ lately."_

_"... huh? What does that-"_

_" The skater boy look really suits him. I've never been one for the baggy clothing but it's cute on him. Very cute. It's gotten difficult to keep my hands off the pretty thing. I'm sure you can understand, you're just as guilty. I swear, if Roy had noticed the way you were gawking at him during Gym the other day he could've filed a sexual molestation suit and won."_

_The bespectacled teen's eyes visibly widened._

_" Yeah, I know you like him too. That's why we can't get along, Maes. We're both after the same guy, stuck in the same boat. With one move, either one of us could compromise the other's position and change the game completely. You were there first then I came along and evened out the playing field. This friction between us... this hostility you're feeling, it's perfectly natural."_

_Pause._

_" The Sins are coming to town in a few weeks." _

_" Yeah... I know, Roy can't stop talking about it."_

_" I just bought tickets, backstage passes."_

_" Oh? That's cool."_

_Another pause._

_" I'm going to ask him out, Hughes."_

And there it was. The first shot had been fired.

_"..."_

_" Look, I don't know what you plan to do about the whole Glacier-"_

_"Gracia."_

_"- __**Gracia**__ situation, but I've grown tired of your shy-best-friend-admiring-from-afar bit. I'm done holding back, waiting for something... __**interesting**__ to happen. So just keep doing whatever it is you're doing and stay out the fuck of my way." _

Kimbley returned to the book he had pulled off the shelf signaling the end of their one and only Roy-less conversation.

True to his word, Zolf J. Kimbley asked Roy L. Mustang out to the concert... and Roy, though a bit surprised, accepted. True to his friend(s), Hughes wished them a good time.

Come the Monday morning after, they came to school together, arm in arm, feet dripping wet from the rain, laughing and chattering away like old friends who'd known each other for years rather than months. Though it was the norm to see Kimbley and Roy together like that, everyone could sense that something had changed.

As was his privilage in being the dependable, trustworthy best friend, Maes was the first to get the details. It was beautiful albeit annoying at the same time to hear Roy's account of the date.

_" Dude, the concert was amazing! I swear Greed has to be some kind of guitar god, the way he shreds and Lust, ugh, she was even HOTTER in person! And backstage they were exactly like they were on the concert DVD, Envy and Dorchette fighting and Marta just pissed at everybody, we were cracking up the whole time. And afterwards, you know that swanky Japanese steakhouse across town? Yeah, we got a private booth by the garden, ya know I usually don't get into that sappy stuff but it was really nice...and everyone thinks Zolfy here's so proper now but he really outdid himself that night -"_

The man mentioned was quietly sipping his coke at that moment with his usual 'couldn't care less' expression... but the smirk was there. Broad and victorious. He got up at one point to go to the vending machine. As soon as he was out of hearing range, Roy leaned over to Maes and lowered his already smooth and heart-stopping voice that he'd carry into adulthood.

_" He called me last night... he wants to go out again this weekend. I haven't answered him yet though."_

_" Oh... do you... want to, though?"_

The most dreamy half-smile appeared on his pretty features right then and the effect nearly melted Maes to his chair.

_" I took some time to think about it last night, and I thought I knew the answer but then... he showed up on my front door this morning with an umbrella- you saw how it was out there this morning- it was __**pouring **__but he insisted we walk to school together. I still don't know what the hell he was trying to do but... I took his hand and we wal-__**ran **__all the way here. I didn't even notice until we got here but I had never let go of his hand... and... I just..."_

_" Yeah?"_

A few more moments passed and he could've swore he heard Kimbley's dress shoes clicking over the noise of the cafeteria.

_" ... and suddenly, the idea of actually __**being**__ with him didn't seem so strange... not at all. The more I think about it the more it makes sense. I mean, I do like him. A lot. I can talk with him for hours-I know our views on things don't exactly line up (Hughes resisted the urge to snort) but... he's interesting and we spend an insane amount of time together anyway so... really I guess the only thing I was worried about was you."_

_" Me? Why?"_

_" I'm... not sure why to be honest. I just had the feeling that... well... you know what? It's nothing. Nothing... how is Gracia by the way-?"_

Kimbley had returned then with a candy bar and bag of chips in tow. Roy let the conversation drop like dead weight and promptly begun another one with the southern brat.

Weeks later, Hughes was completely numb. The dismantled meaning behind his friend's words that day had finally clicked together and since then, he hadn't been able to look at him- look at _**them, **_without wanting to smash his forehead against a wall. Roy and Kimbley didn't seem to mind though... they were providing each other with plenty of entertainment.

He caught sight of them one day as they were heading their separate ways to 6th period... but once the halls were empty (or rather, were _thought_ to be), Roy ran up to Kimbley grabbing him by the waist and pulling him close. The taller teen tensed for the moment but then loosened up once Roy leaned up and whispered something in his ear. After a couple of moments of hushed speech, Mustang drew back allowing onyx orbs to align with amber. It seemed as if the southern brat was trying to decide on something while the skater boy was trying to prove it... then Kimbley reached for something in his pocket. He used his other hand to capture Roy's and held it as he finally pulled out the object he was fumbling for.

A ring.

Delicately, he slipped it on to the younger teen's fingers then closing his eyes, bought them up to his lips in a chaste kiss. The shudder that went through Mustang's body was visible and disgustingly alluring. That same hand then went up to Kimbley's neck gently tugging on the golden chain resting there. The action caused a gem (the same Maes had vaguely noted before), identical to the one embedded in the ring, to reveal itself from the flaps of his shirt collar. A breath escaped Roy's lips (soft, lush and pinched pink), his dark eyes reflecting flickers of crimson... licks of hotly burning fires. Slowly his hands slid up Kimbley's shoulders and he leaned into his embrace, his black gaze melting into sandy depths and his lips just barely grazing olive skin.

It was right there, at that very moment when Maes had his epiphany.

His hatred (yes, he could genuinely say hatred now) for Zolf J. Kimbley had nothing to do with the person himself. Or what he said, what he had, _who _he had nor what he did or could do. It really had nothing to do with anything Kimbley could have helped... after all, it was Roy who had agreed to blow Maes off to attend his after school activities.

It was Roy who always sought out Kimbley during study hall to compare notes.

It was Roy who invited Kimbley over to his house that night (and many other nights after).

It was Roy who allowed Kimbley to touch him in the lunchroom that day.

And in the hallway right then and there, it was Roy who tilted his head to the side and pressed his lips to Kimbley's in what quickly became a heated kiss.

While he knew it wasn't done on purpose, he couldn't help but feel... betrayed. Like all his years of staying by Roy's side, hushing naysayers about his character, making him look even _better_ with his own dorkiness and borderline mediocrity- all his strives to make sure that Roy Mustang stayed at the top of his game... had been for absolutely nothing.

He could deal with Kimbley. Deal with his... _victory _had he'd won it fairly, but no. It was never a fair fight to begin with.

It was two against one.

Two forces of like mind and abilities who each on their own were capable of taking the world by the fist had banded together and their reign was eminent.

Maes never stood a chance.

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**So after reading the excellent 'Putting Out Fires with Gasoline' a bajillion times, I've finally decided to give the 20 Kim/Roy themes a go. I wanted to have at least 3 of the themes done before uploading them and post them in numerical order but this one took on a mind of it's own and was the first to get done (still working on the others -.-). Not surprising really as so far this is the only high school centered muse I have and HS melodrama- as unfortunate and depressing as that is- is what I'm best at. -_- I wanted to give the ficlets, their own unique titles too but I honestly could not think of a better name for this one as it matches perfectly to what I wanted to do (and hopefully, others got the innuendo or I have epically failed). If all goes according to plan, this will be the only one to not have a unique title *cough*and be set in high school*cough*.**

**Being a pretty recent Kim/Roy fanatic, I've noticed there's a severe lack of Kim/Roy fiction out there (romance or otherwise) so I can only hope these *extremely* random ficlets will suffice for all the other KimRoy lovers out there. **

**Reviews are appreciated! Flames be left to burn themselves out. ;) **


	2. Locks and Shears

**Title: ****Locks and Shears**

**Author: ****Ranma Matsuri**

**Pairings: slight**** One-sided Kim/Roy**

**Rating:**** T**

**Theme: ****Scar (#6)**

**Notes:**** Somewhat Canon. Somewhat. Part of "Spark, Ignition" my attempt at the 20 themes of Kim/Roy challenge. Set sometime during the War.**

**Firstly, big thanks to _Grike's Stalker_ for the review! I can't recall at the moment if I replied to you but just in case I didn't, just wanna again say thanks. ^_^**

**Wanna thank those that have favorited and added this story to their alerts as well haha, didn't know authors knew that, didn't you? *pretends to be omnipresent***

**As for this chapter, this is a small plot bunny I've had at the back of my mind for a while, something I've intended to either have in a longer arc or as a one-shot drabble of sorts. I thought the idea fit perfectly with this particular theme so I'm glad to finally have it down on paper... or should I say online.**

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" The heavens... why the hell don't you just cut that mess already? "

Zolf J. Kimbley turned away from the reflection that had held his gaze and turned his attention to his young tent mate. Roy Mustang stood at the entrance giving a sharp look of disapproval that precisely matched his condescending tone from earlier. He was always such an interesting sight, so headstrong and arrogant. Idealistic and naive... perhaps foolish as well, for not many men with or without proper ranking were ballsy enough to speak to the Crimson alchemist as though he were a stupid child. Luckily for him, said Crimson alchemist found it endlessly amusing.

" Though it may not seem like it to you, we're at war not a social event..." Roy continued as he laid back with an exhausted sigh onto his cot. " There's scarce few luxuries we can afford and vanity isn't one of them." He made a point of running his hand (that clothed, deliciously blood soaked hand) through his own trimmed back raven locks to emphasize his point.

Practical his decision to cut his hair may have been, to Zolf, he really looked positively ridiculous. That cut was an ill match for the startling pretty face it adorned and did nothing to accentuate it. Good luck convincing a stiff egomaniac of Mustang's calibar of that fact though. He really couldn't wait for the war to start taking it's toil on the brat, he was sure it'd make for the most _fascinating_ of beautiful pieces this war has produced thus far... one must be patient about these things though.

" You really think so little of me, Flame." Kimbley turned away from the pitiful excuse of a lone mirror they had near the wash basin and began once again brushing his long tresses over his shoulder. He couldn't really argue with the kid's logic at all, it was a absolute pain maintaining hair in these conditions far away from even the most basic of proper haircare products such as shampoo. All he had was murky water, what the military deemed to be soap, and his own brush from home. It really would be easier just to cut and be done with it, he could always grow it back. It's happened before... the thought of that particular instance bought a very nostalgic smirk to his face.

He stopped at the edge of Mustang's cot, his knees barely touching it and with that smirk growing wider asked, " What makes you think vanity has anything to do with it?"

Mustang simply snorted and was surely going to answer with a cutting and sarcastic remark but the words got caught in his throat as he noticed his bunk mate holding out his hairbrush to him in a gesture to take it. He looked up at Kimbley with a flat expression. " You're not serious."

The smirk, just grew wider and with a huff, Mustang took the brush and sat up dragging his legs over the side of the cot. Without waiting for the affirmative, Kimbley with all the swiftness and grace of a feline planted himself between the Flame alchemist's legs allowing just enough space for those deft fingers to reach the tips of his mane.

Much to Crimson's pleasure, Roy took a moment to comb his smooth digits through the long locks slightly massaging the scalp before replacing them with the article provided in smooth even strokes. Kimbley closed his sand colored eyes instantly melting into Roy's steady rhythm. The tent was silent save for the constant commotion outside, the domestic scene not at all matching it's setting in the middle of a war zone. It was a rare moment for both alchemists, one when they could completely phase out their current environment and such thoughts as raids, gunshots, and high strung superiors seemed like silly things worlds away.

" You know... I did have it cut once before."

" Oh? "

" Mmm, it was summer. I was twelve- I told you before my family owned a farm, and I had a habit of sleeping underneath this huge apple tree behind the fence to avoid work."

" Mmhmm, sounds about right."

" Shush, anyway happened that a couple of the hired hands, older boys from my school working for the summer thought it'd be fun to play a prank on the property owner's lazy son. They found my hiding place and one afternoon I woke up to my ponytail laid across my lap along with a pair of garden shears."

Roy couldn't help his amusement. " And after that?"

" Well, I had already suspected they were involved but one of them had a sister- nice girl had a bit of a crush on me, too mousy for my taste she was a pretty thing though- anyway, she came by later with a lemon cake to apologize for her brother. She even helped me trim it into a respectable hairstyle, must say I didn't look half bad."

" How short _was_ it?"

" Longer than yours thank goodness, stopped just below my neck. The shortest I had ever had it since I was a toddler."

" Mm... so those boys got away it?"

" Well... my father scolded them but let them keep their jobs. 'Boys will be boys' and that sort of thing. I did manage some payback on my own though."

" Thought so. What did you do?"

One particular brush stroke down the middle of his scalp had the Crimson alchemist purring. " Well, since they cut off something of mine naturally, I cut off something of theirs."

He moaned softly when Mustang brushed that spot again and laid his head back so it was resting against his young comrade's chest. Hazel eyes fluttered open to meet the simply _gorgeous_ onyx irises staring down at him with slight exasperation.

He continued, " Thinking back on it, I think they got the raw end of the deal... after all, I did get a cake and a cooler hairstyle for the hotter days out of it and well... my hair is at least something that _can _grow back."

Those pretty dark eyes furrowed for a moment in confusion... then soften in thought... hardened a bit in realization and finally, Kimbley was rewarded with their widening in absolute horror. His own tattooed palms went up to stroke the side of his so so pretty comrade's face and then went up to play with the short remnants of his bangs.

" You know... when this is all over, you should really wear your hair longer especially your bangs. You're way too pretty to have such short, boring hair. A face like yours needs something a lover can run their fingers through."

The words shook Roy out of his initial state of shock and he promptly got a little payback of his own as he none too gently dragged the brush through a tangled knot of hair earning a yelp from the man still nestled between his legs.

Even so, years later... long after the Ishvar campaign, when Kimbley once again met his old comrade he had the satisfaction of seeing for himself that Roy had indeed taken his advice.

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**Yay! It took me almost a year but I finally got another one done! *major facepalm* I'm going to try to get the next one out sooner. I really am. Not to mention there's my other neglected fics... *ugh* There's really no excuse for me being this lazy...**

**As always I love opinions therefore I love reviews so drop a line if you can. **


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